Transition

Nobody blogs anymore, and nobody reads blogs anymore, so I suppose here is as good a place as any to empty the contents of my bruised heart.

About six weeks ago, I discovered that my life-long religion was probably a fraud. If you're also a member of that religion, you'll probably stop reading here.

Please don't.

I don't care what you believe. I don't care that we don't believe the same way anymore. I still need you. And maybe you need me, too.

It was easy to let go of some beliefs. Some of them had been tenuous, at best, for quite a long time. But I have clung fervently to the adage "by their fruits ye shall know them," and the church I belonged to, at least at the congregational level, was a good thing! A community of people serving each other. It was--is--beautiful in so many ways. My loss of faith is a death, and I am grieving in a way I've never grieved before.

But I can't... can't... follow it anymore.

My whole world is falling apart. Please don't leave me now. I don't need chastisement or admonition. I don't need calls to repentance.

I don't want to sin. I don't want to go laugh in that great and spacious building.

I can't go back, but I'm too scared to move forward because I'm afraid you will leave me. Whoever you are that may read this. I still want to be your friend. I need you to hold my hand as I walk through the dark.

I wish I could post this somewhere someone would read it, but I'm paralyzed by fear.

Maybe someday when I know where I'm going.